Prompt: There's one secret everyone takes to the grave.

Written for Week 2 of SpyFest 2019.

Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.

I hope you enjoy!

A sergeant sat at his desk, studying the dejected and listless, yet angry, unit of soldiers in front of him. Four men and a teenage boy. Normally, a unit only consisted of four men but this unit had always been unusual. With three soldiers and two MI6 agents, one of them underage, K-Unit was always getting into trouble. This time, the sergeant wasn't sure if he could help them out of it. But he was damn well going to try. The status report they had just given him on their most recent mission was concerning, to say the least. It had been one of the most difficult ones he had ever heard of. And it had gone wrong almost as soon as it had started. He wasn't surprised.

As much as he despised MI6 for using Cub, even he couldn't deny that the boy was extraordinary. From the beginning of Cub's career, he had been given suicide missions. And the teen hadn't failed a single one. Even the most recent mission was considered a success. They had achieved their objective. Except none of them were celebrating because the cost had been too great. The MI6 agents, Fox and Cub, had gone in with three units. Only K-Unit had made it out alive. One unit was dead. And the last unit had been captured. Their orders were to do nothing until the higher ups had cleared a rescue mission for the captured unit. This was why the sergeant was concerned about K-Unit. They were angry and grieving, none of them willing, or allowed to, talk about the finer details of their mission. His men needed some support.

"K-Unit," the sergeant said quietly. "I know how hard it is right now to wait for a rescue mission to happen. There is nothing more I want to do than mount that mission right now. But as elite soldiers, we know that the timing needs to be right or the mission fails." He paused, looking to see how his men were taking this. Seeing no change in their expressions, he continued. "In the meantime, it doesn't do any good for you to continue training in the state of mind you are all currently in. So, I want you to take this afternoon off and go to the fence. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

K-Unit filed out of the office in sombre silence. Stepping outside of the drab administration building in the middle of the Brecon Beacons, Alex followed the soldiers in trudging through the mud and rain. After a few moments, he pushed his hair out of his line of vision and asked, "What fence is the sergeant talking about?"

"It's called the Fence of Secrets," Wolf grunted.

"On this fence, there are engraved locks that the soldiers put on it," Fox continued with the explanation, seeing that their unit leader wasn't going to be saying anything else on the matter. "For every lock on that fence, there is a secret that a soldier has taken, or plans to take, with them to their grave."

"The tradition started as an attempt to help with the mental health of soldiers," Snake added. "We deal with a lot of classified information and, even though we should, our experiences in the field may not be something we want to talk to anyone about. So, the idea of this fence is to give a lock to any soldier who is struggling with their secrets. Then, the soldier is given some time to engrave their name onto the lock. The process of engraving their name is supposed to help the soldier calm their thoughts by focusing on a repetitive action. When they're done, the soldier puts the lock on the fence, symbolically sealing their secret. Hopefully, this act helps them be at peace with whatever they are dealing with."

"But there's more to it than just helping yourself," Eagle said seriously. "When other soldiers visit the fence, they could stay there for an hour or more, examining the locks and working through their own thoughts. I've done it before. And seeing the locks helps us know that we're not alone."

As Eagle finished talking, Alex saw that they had arrived in a remote part of the camp. A long chain link fence stood tall, gleaming with a mosaic of different coloured locks. There must have thousands on the fence, ranging from a few decades to a few days old. The older ones had rust eating away at the metal. It was humbling to see the number of soldiers that had carried their secrets, their troubles, to the grave.

Alex walked over to the fence with K-Unit and each of them picked a random lock to study, wondering what secret the lock kept and what had become of the soldier who had carried it. Turning the lock over in his hand, Alex felt his breath hitch as an invisible force squeezed his heart.

John Rider.

That was the name engraved into the lock. Taking a steadying breath, Alex closed his eyes and enjoyed the thought that he was holding a piece of his father's history. A step closer to the father he never knew. He wondered what his father had been thinking when he had put the lock on the fence. There was no way to know. Letting go of the lock, Alex reached for the one beside it. And froze.

Ian Rider.

He was holding a piece of his uncle's past. An uncle that he thought he knew, only to find out that most of it had been a lie. Sighing, he brushed the lock wistfully with his thumb and studied the lock. It was newer than John Rider's was. Alex wondered if it had been put there after his parents' plane blew up, courtesy of his godfather, and Ian was forced to raise him.

"Cub, come on!" Fox called out, shaking Alex out of his thoughts.

He was startled to realize that his unit had already gone off to the small shelter that was housing the locks and tools for engraving. Jogging over to them, Alex joined in picking his own lock and sat down at the table, thinking about what secret he would carry with him to his death. Nothing came to mind.

After a while, Snake noticed that he hadn't made a move to engrave his name on the lock. "What's wrong, Cub?"

Alex shook his head, saying dryly, "I don't know what secret to lock away."

The whole unit raised their heads to look at him, abandoning their task. "You can't be serious," Fox said disbelievingly. "You've probably got more secrets than all of us combined!"

"None that would be guaranteed to remain a secret for long," Alex countered. "I mean, if people don't already know my secrets before I even know about them, then too many people are involved and my secrets get revealed anyways."

Eagle snorted. "Whoever thought that the world's top spy was so bad at keeping secrets?"

"Well, I'd like to see you try keeping a secret when international criminal organizations and multiple intelligence agencies have a hand in it," Alex retorted.

His unit shuddered at the thought of dealing with the things that Alex dealt with on a daily basis. "No thanks," they muttered, grinning and ruffling his hair affectionately.

Going back to their task of engraving their names, Alex sat with his unit in silence until they finished and walked with them back to the fence. He watched the soldiers put their locks on, the clicks sealing the secrets. As they headed back towards their barracks, Alex noted that some of the tension in the soldiers' muscles had eased slightly and smiled, happy that his comrades felt a little better. For now, things would be okay.

Years later, a worn-out man came back to Brecon Beacons from another suicide mission. Remembering the therapeutic effects that his unit experienced so long ago, he revisited the Fence of Secrets, finally putting two locks on it. He put one near John and Ian Rider's. The other was sealed near K-Unit's. Afterwards, he lingered a while longer, reminiscing about the old times that were long gone, and left with a little bit more energy in his steps. He never looked back.

A/N: Inspiration came from the Pont des Arts (aka the Locks of Love Bridge) in Paris. Thanks for reading!